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“Why don’t you practice on me?” He’d said, tipsy on whiskey and leaning his back against Vox’s shoulder, legs hanging off the arm of the couch they were both seated on, after another twenty minutes of Vox complaining that he hadn’t been able to recreate how he’d convinced the turkey demon they’d been squabbling with last week to cut off his own arm for Alastor to eat in apology.
It had been quite… Thrilling, to witness.
Alastor shook his head, focusing on conversation again.
They weren’t new to being friends, they were arguably even… More than that, now, but neither had the bravery to ask and put a label on it.
The intimacy was clearly there, if not sexual. Alastor’s shoes and socks were abandoned, his hooves exposed, a rare treat for anyone.
Even rarer was how he allowed Vox to play farrier, after ages of pleading when he saw Alastor struggle to trim them himself.
Vox looked over at Alastor, so shocked by the suggestion that he’d leaned back, almost spilling his drink on his stupid beige sweater.
Alastor was far gone, the two of them had already been cut off at the bar, and had decided to continue drinking in Vox’s dingy little apartment, where he just so happened to keep Alastor’s favorite liquor, and so when Vox shifted, his balance did, too.
He made a soft, bleat-like noise as he fell back, shoulders and head now laying in Vox’s lap. He grinned up at him, ears twitching.
When Vox’s hand tentatively came to brush over the soft, red fur, Alastor didn’t fight him off. He even seemed to relax.
Vox gently pet them in earnest, given the silent permission.
“Are you– Why would–”
“Oh, please. What’s a little hypnosis among friends?”
He laughed, and Vox’s expression seemed to almost soften. Blue claws reached up, gently brushing some hair from his face before cupping his cheek.
“...Are you sure?”
Alastor snorted, squirming about to sit up, but then realized he was no longer facing Vox. Well, that wouldn’t do!
Emboldened by drink and comfort, he moved. One long leg swung over Vox, until he was straddling him, knees on either side of Vox’s thighs.
Oh, the way that screen brightened, a few pixels glitching and going dead for a moment in the corners, a darker shade of blue coming across what counted as cheeks. Alastor grinned, toying with the smooth corners of the boxy object passing for a head.
“Al–”
“Want me to move?”
A moment of quiet.
“No. No, you’re– You’re fine.”
Alastor grinned again, leaning back so Vox could see his face, head tilting.
“I’m sure, Vox. I don’t offer anything I don’t want to give.”
Drunk, Alastor was more open to vulnerability, and touch. His eyes darted down when Vox’s hands tentatively hovered by his waist, but when they made contact, he didn’t stop it.
It felt… Safe.
“...Okay. Yeah. I can practice on you.”
Vox’s hands came up, cradling Alastor’s face, keeping him still and focused on his screen. One eye widened, the spirals flashing.
The animation was slow, almost jerky, and Alastor didn’t feel much different, maybe a bit more light headed. Vox groaned in frustration, throwing his head back.
“Don’t even– Wait. Wait, okay. Let me– Can I try again? I have an idea?”
“Of course.”
Vox sat back up, returning to the spiral show.
“Trust me.”
“I–”
“You’re going to tell me the truth, because we’re best friends, and you trust me.”
He was almost dizzy now, the world felt like it was spinning. His eyes became half lidded, smile relaxing with his shoulders. It was… Nice, pleasant. Thoughts were numbed, sensations dulled beyond the ones that involved contact with Vox’s body.
“Of course, Vox.”
A soft, staticky noise from Vox’s antennae, but he made sure to keep up with the spinning.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
As quickly as the hypnotic thrum had been, it was gone, replaced by the cool, smooth screen pressing against Alastor’s face.
It was more so Alastor kissing his screen than Vox kissing Alastor, and Alastor wasn’t sure exactly how the physics of this worked. No one did, it was Hell. He didn’t move away, or push Vox back, though. He’d been honest, like Vox wanted.
Instead, his arms snaked around Vox’s neck, thighs squeezing around him affectionately.
Vox’s tongue had lulled out, able to manifest from the screen. It was staticky, it felt like shards of glass dragging along Alastor’s mouth, which he opened. The appendage dived into his mouth, and he had half a mind to bite it, but couldn’t bring himself to hurt his dear friend.
Or–
Whatever they were to each other.
Vox moved, pressing Alastor’s thin frame into the couch now, looming over him, tongue exploring every inch of Alastor’s mouth, careful of those sharp teeth. Blue claws travelled up Alastor’s shirt, feeling fur and skin and, oh–
Oh, what day of the month was it?
Alastor’s eyes snapped open, glancing at the deer calendar Vox had on the wall.
Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
He squirmed, and Vox pulled back, panting. They were both panting, and Vox was so warm and strong and– nono. Focus, Alastor, focus!
“I– I need to–”
“Did– Fuck. Did I fuck this up?”
“What– No! No, it’s– I– It’s really quite embarrassing, I don’t–”
“What? What is it?”
Alastor shrank back, closing his eyes and breathing out slowly. He didn’t want to have this conversation, he didn’t want to acknowledge or talk about it.
He was overheating, he knew he was. He needed to get back to his own home, strip out of his clothes and hide in the closet until it had run its course.
He felt Vox starting to shift, to get off of him, and before he could stop himself a panicked bleat ripped its way through his throat, eyes snapping open and hands frantically reaching out to grab onto his arms.
“Wait– wait, I don’t–”
Vox’s brows furrowed, confusion clear as can be on his screen.
“...I’m getting mixed signals, Al.”
Alastor groaned, frustrated, and reached for his drink.
Vox put it in his hand, and Alastor sat up just enough to down it before setting the cup back on the coffee table.
“It’s… Hard to say.”
Vox was quiet, as if considering for a moment, petting at Alastor’s side and silently delighting in each shiver and ear twitch it got.
“...Do you want me to… make you tell me?”
Oh–
It wasn’t that the suggestion was offensive. It wasn’t that it didn’t make sense, Alastor had offered to be a guinea pig, after all.
It was that something about that sentence sent heat and want straight through his core.
“...Yes.”
That was all Vox needed to hear.
He loomed over Alastor again, one hand on either side of his head. With nowhere else to put his hands, cowed back to laying flat on the couch, Alastor put them on Vox’s chest, feeling the hum of fans and the shift of those gill-like vents releasing hot air.
He looked up at Vox’s face, because that’s what he was supposed to do for this to work.
That eye widened again, and oh, the spirals were almost pretty–
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Alastor opened his mouth, closed it, breathed out through his nose.
“...I– Have a mating season. Every 28 days or so– It’s irregular, at times. It’s part of the– deer anatomy, and I–”
“You’re about to go into a rut?”
“No, not– not a rut, it’s…”
“It’s okay. You can tell me, Al. Trust me.”
His breath came easier, limbs starting to relax.
Trusting Vox seemed so easy, so comfortable. So right.
“Heat.”
“Why heat and not rut?”
He blinked, slow and owlish as he struggled to find his tongue.
“Don’t relax too much. Just enough.”
“Ah. I– Anatomy.”
“Be more clear. Be honest with me.”
The hypnosis was cracking, and they both could tell. Vox was drunk, he was new at it, he was getting a headache by now.
Alastor needed to try, to communicate.
His breath was coming in shorter, harsher pants. It was getting hard to think critically.
“Built– more like a doe, than a buck, I fear, dear friend, ha! Haha.”
Humor made it easier, made it– simpler. Not as close, not as real.
“Not– sure why, it wasn’t like that before I died. Perhaps another punishment–”
“Do you want me to help?”
It was said so quietly Alastor almost missed it. He blinked, looking at Vox, who had stopped the hypnotic attempts, likely for the night, by now.
“I…”
Did he?
“I haven’t– with anyone, alive or– now–”
He paused, hearing what sounded like a tea kettle screaming in the other room.
A vent was blocked.
A hand slid up Vox’s turtleneck, claw reaching until it found the boiling hot gill and carefully pushed, prying it open and–
He winced, shuddering as hot air burned his hand.
“Fuck– Al– You didn’t have to do that, are you okay–”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Alastor swallowed. His saliva felt so thick.
He was still in his right mind. He had to say something while he could.
“Yes. I want you. To– To help! I want you to help. But I–”
He squirmed again, underneath Vox, panting.
“When I’m… A little less lucid, I might–”
“Make me chase you.”
How would Vox know a detail like that?
“I… Studied deer a little, when we became friends. In case any of your injuries healed weird, because of– you know.”
It was endearing. It was touching. It was–
Worthy.
Vox shifted, moving away, getting off of him.
“I can chase you.”
Alastor’s breath hitched.
He started sitting up, hoof reaching ground. His nerves were on fire.
“I’ll catch you.”
He was up like a bolt of lightning, running down the ridiculously long hall of Vox’s apartment, on pure instinct.
Chase.
Run, run. Make him catch you, prove his worth, prove he deserves it. He smells so good, he has to catch you–
He didn’t realize what room they were in when Vox tackled him, near wheezing with excitement, eyes wide, red pixels drooling down from his mouth on the screen.
Alastor struggled, not out of any protest, but because it was part of the chase, part of the game.
Vox held him down by his wrists. They were on the carpeted floor of Vox’s tiny bedroom.
“Got you. Oh– You know, I have a– A similar thing. I’ll– I’ll tell you later. It’s not until spring time, and I’m not sure you’ll retain anything pretty soon anyways.”
Vox was shaking above him, so excited, so eager for him.
“Vox–”
His tone was whining, full of old, tinny radio static.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s my name, baby.”
Oh.
“Oh– You liked that? Like petnames?”
Vox undid Alastor’s tie, tossing it aside. He undid the four buttons keeping his coat on.
Vox sat him up for that one, and Alastor, trembling, allowed it. The coat was tossed aside. Suspenders pulled past his shoulders.
“Fuck– Fuck, I–”
“It’s okay. I got you, sweetie.”
The shirt was gone before Alastor fully processed what was happening.
Vox paused, running hands along every inch of Alastor’s fur, hands gently putting through the patch of it along his chest.
“You good?”
“Please.”
“Not what I asked.”
“Yes– yes, good.”
“Are you sure? Never seemed interested before…”
“I was– first person I ever– wanted.”
The confession came out slurred, alcohol and heat making him near delirious.
Vox full body shivered, and began working Alastor’s pants off.
At some point during the stripping, Alastor had been moved onto the bed, which was much more comfortable on his bones.
The pants and boxers are thrown somewhere in the room, to be searched for in the haze of a hangover tomorrow.
Problem for sober Alastor.
“Wait– it’s– wait. Heat can– Even if– It can last two days.”
“I can handle that.”
Worthy.
Alastor struggled to relax, even though he wanted this. He wanted it so bad.
Vox was distracted by his tail, shuddering all over as he reached out.
“Fuck– Can– Can I? Al, please–”
Alastor nodded, only realizing then that he was hyperventilating, staring at the ceiling.
What was he doing? This was a huge mistake. Vox would just use this against him–
He yelped when Vox’s fingers brushed his tail, and Vox’s hands moved away immediately.
“Sorry– I didn’t know it’d be that sensitive. Fuck, it’s so cute, but– I won’t– I won’t touch it again, okay? I don’t wanna– Al? Hey– Hey, look at me.”
“I’m fine– Just–”
He clenched his eyes shut, and Vox shifted, petting his ears again, which did help Alastor calm down just enough to even his breathing.
“I want to.”
“Then trust me.”
Vox shifted, holding up Alastor’s digitigrade legs, staring between his thighs and shuddering all over.
He’d already been told about Alastor’s anatomy, it wasn’t that.
Alastor was soaked, cunt practically leaking onto the bed. It was humiliating, and Alastor reached up, covering his face with a whiny bleat.
Vox didn’t begin pushing into him, like Alastor was preparing for.
Instead, he put Alastor’s legs together, shifting about.
Alastor was close to the edge of the bed, and Vox was know on the ground, tongue manifesting out again, electric blue and dripping with saliva.
“Vox?”
“Gonna taste you.”
Before Alastor could process, that thick, eager muscle began pushing into his cunt, his legs held together up so Vox could press his screen against him without any issues.
Oh– fuck–
“Fuck–!”
Vox could talk like this, Alastor knew. He spoke through speakers, not that occupied mouth.
Vox moaned, tongue pushing in deeper, exploring every inch of Alastor, dragging along his walls, curling upwards, as if searching.
“You taste so good, baby.”
“Vo-ox–!”
“That’s it, moan for me. Good doe.”
Logic was gone. Anxiety was gone. All that was left was want and heat and Vox, Vox’s tongue, his mate’s strong arms gripping around his hock joints to keep his thighs together and up.
What a strong, perfect mate he had. He was so lucky. Vox had chased him down the hall, caught him so effortlessly. He’d be a protector, he knew that.
He all but squealed when a bundle of nerves he didn’t process existed until then was brushed against. HIs back arched off the bed, claws digging into the sheets.
Vox looked so smug, not that Alastor could see him.
“There it is. I got you.”
“Please– please, please, please– I need you– Please, mate–”
Vox moaned again, and slowly, his tongue slid out from Alastor’s drenched cunt. He rose up, letting Alastor’s legs fall.
Alastor parted them immediately, scrambling backwards on the bed so Vox had room to get on top of him.
Vox’s screen was dripping with slickness.
Vox undid his belt near frantically, pushing them and his boxers (goldfish print, cute.) just enough to release his–
Cocks?
Alastor tilted his head, panting, brows furrowed.
“Ah, haah– Yeah, I– Should’ve warned you. Don’t– don’t worry! I’m not putting both in.”
“You could.”
Vox paused, shaking, panting.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do, please– Mate–”
“Hey–”
Vox’s hand moved, pressing down on Alastor’s stomach.
He moaned.
“Yeah. How about this.”
He shifted, rubbing along Alastor’s lips, smearing the wetness along the head. He shivered again, bumping the head against Alastor’s clit teasingly.
Alastor looked ready to cry.
“I’m using one, because you’re a virgin.”
Fuck. Fuck. He was taking Alastor’s virginity. He was Alastor’s first.
“And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Yeah, you are.”
He positioned himself properly, when Alastor began squirming and bleating in desperation.
Dominance, Alastor wanted dominance.
Vox pressed a hand on his abdomen again, to still him, and it worked. Alastor looked up at him, smile still in place but eyes wide. Prey-like.
“Mate–”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m your mate.”
He began pushing into Alastor, one hand holding his waist, the other continuing to press a gentle, firm pressure into his stomach.
Alastor bleated, he wailed and moaned and arched his back as Vox slowly, oh so slowly, slid into him.
He was so horny, so wet and eager, it was easy to get inside him, but even then, Vox kept it gentle, slow.
“Good boy, you’re taking me so well. And you’ve never taken anyone before? Oh, you’re a natural, baby. That’s it, open up for your mate. For your buck.”
Alastor was gone by now, a brainless animal beneath Vox, thrashing and moaning, red claws tearing up his arms, and Vox could only moan at that.
Alastor was tight, tighter than any deer demon Vox had brought back and fucked from behind, imagining it was Alastor moaning into these pillows.
And look at him now.
He practically growled, shuddering as he restrained himself, holding onto Alastor’s shoulders now.
“Breed me.”
Oh–
He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected that.
Alastor looked mortified, clearly not fully gone, partially aware of what just left his mouth.
“I– I don’t–”
“Yeah?”
He bottomed out in Alastor now, hips pressed flush against his friend’s.
Alastor’s thin legs wrapped around his waist.
“I wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”
“I’ll breed you.”
A low, desperate moan from Alastor.
He began moving, slow and careful at first, gaging what Alastor responded well to and what he shied away from.
He shifted, pressing harder than he’d meant to, and Alastor–
Arched his back, eyes wide and panting, squeezing his legs around Vox encouragingly.
Vox hesitated, before dragging a claw down Alastor’s waist, harsh, meant to sting.
A bleat, a flutter of lash, a pitiful little moan.
Alastor liked it rough. He liked it to hurt.
Well, who was Vox to deny him?
With this newfound knowledge, he began fucking into him properly, hips snapping forward with purpose, deep.
Alastor clenched around him, bleating and holding onto Vox’s arms, right above the elbows, hooves twitching and thighs trembling.
The wet sound of their skin slapping together, of Vox fucking in and out of that tight wet heat, filled the room.
“Matematemate–”
“That’s it. Fuck, yes. Gonna breed you.”
“Wanna give you fawns– You’d make such strong fawns–”
Sinners couldn’t breed, a fact that made Vox’s chest clench with sorrow for a moment. The idea of Alastor, barehooved and pregnant, little antlered babies running around the house.
It was a dream he’d love to see filled.
“I’m gonna fill you, keep you pregnant. My pretty little doe, have so many babies for me, yeah?”
Could people have children in Heaven? How could he find that out?
“Yes! Yesyesyes–”
He’d been a god once before.
“I love you, Alastor.”
If he could become a god again…
“Love you! Love you, mate–”
Maybe, just maybe, if he ruled Heaven…
“God, do you even know who’s fucking you right now? You’re so stupid right now. Fucking tease, now just brainless and willing.”
Alastor’s back arched, eyes wide as Vox’s thumb pressed into his clit, rubbing in slow, careful circles.
His body tensed, eyes rolling back, drooling as–
Oh, oh–
“Fuck yes, Al! Squirt on me, oh, fuck–!”
Alastor nearly wailed when he came, clawing at Vox, wanting him closer.
“Vox– I love you– I love you, Vox– Vox– Vincent–”
Vox pushed in, deep as he could, tongue laving over Alastor’s face, licking away tears, sliding into his mouth for a kiss as he pressed his screen against Alastor’s face.
He came, moaning against Alastor’s face, shuddering as he pet through soft fur.
Alastor was trembling, sobbing into Vox’s shoulder when Vox essentially collapsed atop him after his own orgasm.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever cum that hard in his life.
“I got you, I got you. ‘S okay, Al.”
Vox pet his side, fans whirring, vents puffing out air. Oh, Alastor was perfect.
Vox could barely remember what epiphany he was on the verge of earlier, brain mush with orgasm and closeness.
Slowly, he pulled out of Alastor, shushing the protesting whine it earned him.
He kicked his pants and underwear off rest of the way, and then pulled off his turtleneck and sweatervest, throwing them aside as well, before he collapsed next to Alastor, pulling the too thin frame against his own, spooning his friend and petting Alastor’s stomach.
Alastor made no move to get up and clean himself, nor any fuss for Vox to do it for him, simply twitching and panting, though his breathing seemed to even out as he Vox pet and cooed.
Now the part he was most eager for.
The aftercare.
“I got you. You did so good, Al.”
“...Vox…?”
His voice sounded sleepy, distant and far away.
“Hey. You back?”
“Mm. For now.”
“How do you feel?”
Alastor rolled over, pressing his face into Vox’s shoulder, getting as much skin contact as possible.
“Disgusting. Tired.”
“Want me to run a bath?”
“...No, just– I’ll be… Not myself again in a few hours.”
Vox snorted, nuzzling his screen against the top of Alastor’s head, inhaling the scent of the strawberry shampoo he’d given Alastor last week.
“Get some sleep before then, Al.”
“I’m sorry.”
“...What?”
“For– this. I shouldn’t– I should have just– gone home, not taken advantage of–”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no.”
Vox shifted, looking down at Alastor properly, frowning when he saw Alastor avoiding his gaze in shame.
“You didn’t take advantage of shit. We both wanted this. I wanted this. Wanted you. Don’t regret this, Al. Please…”
Alastor was quiet, but he unfurled a little against Vox, even tangling their legs together.
“...I can stay until my heat’s over?”
“You can stay forever, baby. Now, go to sleep.”
“Sore.”
“Sorry, got a little excited.”
“It’s fine.” Alastor’s speech was now slurring with exhaustion, dozing off against his matematematematebuckmateloverlover friend.
“I like it.”
Vox inhaled slowly, shakily.
He’d be ready for round two when Alastor woke up.